Bad to the Throne, page 18
part #15 of The Good Guys Series
Except for me.
I had to stay there and see the principal.
51
Once it was just me and the people who actually ran the Senate, the chamberlain and her underlings, the place had an entirely different feeling.
I took a quick glance around the room. There were eighteen guards at various spots around the dome, eight of whom were on the balcony. I also saw Thermaric in his little room at the far back. There was the chamberlain, and the two other bigwigs who sat next to her, and then nine other people working in the back, including the old lady who said I was telling the truth about Rumib Pass.
“You may approach,” the chamberlain said, sitting down and sighing. “If it would please his grace, I would request a less formal meeting here as we discuss things.”
“Sure,” I said, walking towards her.
“Thank you.”
She pulled out a mug of something from beneath the podium.
“Danald, if we could get some tables here,” she called out, gesturing to an area of open floor. “I think his grace has documents for us.”
I looked around, a little confused because I didn’t have shit, but then I saw that a present had been left for me amongst the group of chairs I could have claimed as mine. A leather valise.
“That I do,” I replied. “My patents of nobility.”
“If you would bring those up as well,” the chamberlain said, “so we might begin this process.”
I grabbed the valise and looked inside, really hoping it wasn’t going to be filled with bananas or something. Although that would have been kind of funny.
It wasn’t. I stared at a mass of old parchment. I pulled it out and let it thud down on the table Danald and a helper had set up.
“Thank you,” the chamberlain said. Then she gestured at the chair across from her. “You may sit.”
“Thank you,” I said, and sat. Gingerly.
The chair held.
A few more of the chamberlain’s people came over and sat around the table, and they began to examine the patents. Going over page by page in detail. Which meant we were going to be there a while.
52
We were.
A long while.
And I had nothing to do but wait while they went over page by page by page.
Midway through the document review, a young woman in a Senate staffer uniform came in and handed over a note. The chamberlain read over the note, nodded, and when the staffer left, the chamberlain had the old woman come over.
“If you would give us some space,” the chamberlain said. “We must verify the authenticity of this document. No harm will come to it.”
“Not a problem,” I said, and I left to go to the other end of the room, where I saw Danald leaning against the wall, reading a small book.
He saw me coming and gave me a smirk, then went back to his book.
I stood next to him on the wall.
He said nothing.
I said nothing.
And between us, an entire conversation took place where I knew he thought I was more one of him and less one of them. I liked that.
The old woman gave an intense and verbose lecture about the document and its veracity to the chamberlain and company. I couldn’t hear all of it, or much of it really, but eventually they decided that it was genuine, and I was permitted to come back to the table.
Around the time my stomach was the loudest thing in the room, they got to the last few bits of parchment, looking over all the things attached to the pages, medals and ribbons and things.
“There is but one more process,” the chamberlain said. “Although it is voluntary, it is the most sure way of determining the truth here.”
“What’s that?” I asked, really hoping we could just finish this mess up because I was bored and damned near starving to death.
“If you would consent to giving us a spot of your blood—”
“Done,” I said, holding out my hand.
“Are you sure, your grace?”
“Why not?”
“If you are not who you say you are, even though you have convinced us with this document—”
“Just do it.”
“It would also mean adding a page to your patents whereby your blood is added to the record a second time–”
“It’s already there?”
“Yes.”
She pointed to one of the last pages, where my adopted father’s name was next to a dark red dot on the page. Underneath Coggeshall was my own name, Montana Coggeshall, and a dark red dot, marking my blood as that of the Coggeshall line verified by the Imperial Blood and that I was, as of that point, considered of Royal Blood.
“So it’s already there.”
“Yes.”
“But you want to do it again?”
“It would be the most sure way of proving you are who you say you are.”
“Would it take long?”
“No.”
“Then let’s do it. I am who I say I am, and I’d rather not go through this mess again.”
“I doubt any one of us would, your grace.”
The chamberlain’s definition of taking long and my definition of taking long were vastly different. There was a whole process to follow, whereby new parchment was brought in, cut to fit the rest of the patents. Then we had to find a calligrapher to write some fancy wording across it. Finally, a drop of my blood was taken via a little silver needle thingy, which was then transferred to that paper. An old woman and man peered at the blood and the paper. They did a little magic over the blood and had a short conference. Then they pulled medals attached to blue ribbons out of the air and attached those ribbons to the parchment.
“Your grace,” the chamberlain said, “I greet you, again, as the rightful Duke of Coggeshall, holder of twenty chairs.”
“Thank you.”
“Would you care to claim slander from the accusation?”
“That’s up to me?”
“It is. Unless there is one above your station who wishes to claim thusly on your behalf.”
I sighed. It’d be so sweet to boot Edgemond the fuckstick from the Senate so he couldn’t vote to be Emperor. I wondered if he’d even be a valid candidate for the throne if I claimed slander.
He didn’t have many votes, so even if I took them all, they wouldn’t mean I could pick the next Emperor. It would, however, cement him as an enemy for a long time to come. Also likely, his family, which could have ramifications for generations for Coggeshall. Which was so much more than I wanted to think about — it was more than I had really ever thought about. My initial impulse had always been one of fuck-em, which had sort of worked for a long time, until it didn’t.
But that had also largely been when I was only focused on myself, and I didn’t have that luxury any longer. It’d be better to have friends, or, at the very least, not enemies.
“Nah,” I said. “Let’s just pretend he was a little over enthusiastic.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Once we finish this, there will be no redress for whatever injuries he has caused.”
“There’s always a way to get back at assholes if they really need it.”
“Not legally, your grace.”
“I’ve never let that stop me before.”
She gave me the sort of smile you give a try-hard edgelord who was talking about how tough they were and how they mastered the blade.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I don’t feel slandered. I just want to get all of this behind me and get this, um, stuff done with.”
“Of course, your grace. If that is what you wish, then it is also the decision of the Senate.”
“Great,” I said, standing up. “Are we done?”
That got something of an actual smile.
“Do you wish to request proof of peerage for the rest of the Senate?”
“I can do that?”
“It is your prerogative as the accused, yes.”
“Would you have to do this process with everyone?”
“Something along these lines, yes.”
“Wouldn’t that take a lot of time?”
“Very much so, your grace.”
“Nah, I think we’re good. Or, you know, I’m good.”
“Thank you, your grace. You are free to leave, Duke of Coggeshall,” she said. “And I will see you on the morrow for the next session.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, already heading for the door before she could change her mind.
“I would request you not dress as the staff tomorrow, however.”
“No promises,” I shot over my shoulder.
53
It was well into the afternoon by the time I stepped out of the Senate. And while I thought I’d come out to find the area around the building devoid of people, there was actually a decent crowd hanging out there. I ignored all the questions thrown my way, heading directly for the stately carriage parked on the opposite side of the square.
Valamir looked at me expectantly as I opened the door and hauled my bulk inside.
“Well?” he asked.
“Don’t you want me to shut the door first?”
“I want to know if I need to send an army to protect what was once your demense.”
“You do not.”
“We were successful?”
“Yes.”
He clapped his hands and leaned back. “Excellent,” he said.
“You worried?”
“I was, yes.”
“You doubted things?”
“Of course. You thought this was a done-deal?”
“I mean, I knew I was who I said I was.”
“What you know is not as important as what others believe.”
“Yeah, well, the truth set me free. Or, I guess, chained me back down to being in the Senate.”
“Did you press for slander?”
“No.”
“Wise.”
“Why did you get a demerit?”
“That is the cost of requesting a public reminder.”
“Seems steep.”
“It is the responsibility of the Senators to know the rules and the chamberlain to enforce them.”
“Huh. Did you want, I mean, I thought maybe you wanted me to press for slander, just—”
“I wanted you to be aware of it, but more, I wanted Edgemond to be afraid and to realize that he was set up by whomever decided to do this. That he was now in danger of being thrown out of the meeting and losing his chance at the throne.”
“Tollenfuck.”
“While I have no doubt Tollendahl is at least in part behind this, it would be foolish for us to lay the entirety of the plan at his feet.”
“I don’t like that guy.”
“A sentiment shared by many.”
“How is he still alive?”
“Power, money, and illusion.”
“Whatever. So what’s next?”
“One, the cult. Clyde Hatchett is waiting for you at the Cat & Hare and has a course of action to discuss with you. Two, there is still the continued business of the Senate, which will shortly mean voting upon the Emperor.”
“I’m going to write you in as my vote.”
“Do not do that.”
I held a straight face for a second longer before smiling.
“Okay, probably not. What about Albrecht?”
“Do you have a serious thought about who might lead this nation of ours?”
“Not a good one. You want to influence me?”
“Are you requesting a bribe? Because I doubt I have the deepest pockets here.”
“Should I be doing that? I mean, I should be trying to do whatever is best for Coggeshall, right?”
“That is usually what is done, yes. But what that is…”
“Is what?”
“Up to you.”
“Shit, man, I don’t fucking know.”
“Then how could I possibly?”
“Because you’ve done this nonsense for a lot longer than I have.”
“Sadly, I know remarkably little of Coggeshall–”
“Bullshit. You’ve got spies there right now.”
He spread his hands out and just gave me half a smile.
“Perhaps I do. But–”
“You think on it,” I said, opening the little hatch to the driver. “Can you take us to Cat & Hare?”
“I have no reason to go there,” Valamir said.
“Bah, you’re dropping me off.”
54
The joint in question, Cat & Hare, was a quiet but posh place. It was empty, except for Clyde, when I got there. A benefit of using a restaurant Valamir owned as our meeting location.
I ordered some steaks and then sat down across from Clyde, who was eating something along the lines of a sandwich, with a big mug of milk at hand.
“So what’ve you got planned?” I asked.
“Good to see you, too.”
“You need to do a bunch of small talk before we get down to it?”
“Well, it’s not every day I get to talk to another American.”
“That obvious?”
“Your name is Montana. You might as well have a bald eagle perched on your shoulder.”
“Montana isn’t exactly the most American name. It’s not like I named myself George Washington.”
“I wonder if there’s been someone who did that.”
“Where you from?”
“The Bronx. You?”
“Detroit.”
“And you went with Montana? Why not Michigan? Or Detroit?”
“Seemed weird.”
“And Montana was normal?”
“Okay, how much shit do you really want to give me about my name? Clyde is so much better?”
He shrugged, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.
“Busting balls is a traditional Bronx hello,” he said.
“Then fucking hello to you too,” I said.
I pulled out my flask, opened it, and took a pull, enjoying the frigid root beer. I held it out to Clyde.
“Don’t drink,” he replied, hand up.
“It’s root beer,” I replied.
“Root beer? From where?”
“Michigan.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“True story, man.”
“How’d you get it?”
He took the flask and gave it a sniff.
“Present from somebody powerful,” I said.
He took a sip, and the most genuine smile I’d seen from him spread across his elven face.
“That’s amazing. And cold. Dang. I want one of these.”
“I’ll see if I can get you one.”
“Dr. Pepper, if you can.”
I shrugged, and took another long pull from the flask.
“No promises,” I said. “Now, what are we doing?”
He unfolded a piece of paper from his pocket and spread it out on the table. It was a crudely drawn map that looked like it might line up with the city of Glaton.
“This is the city,” Clyde said, “not to scale, obviously.”
“Sure.”
“And drawn by kobolds.”
“Really?”
“Really. A friend of mine runs a messaging service that uses kobolds to run info throughout the city. They do a lot of it underground. They’ve had a lot of unusual losses lately, so I asked them if they’d be willing to put together a map showing where those losses happened, hoping it might show something. This is that map. I haven’t actually been able to suss out what everything here means, but these markings are where kobolds have either died or gone missing.”
“Is that the x’s?”
“I mean, yeah. Supposed to be that.”
Understanding the map was a bit of a challenge — there were squiggly lines everywhere and it was clear at least three different artists had worked on it — but I could see that there were x’s pretty much all over the place. It didn’t seem like there was any sort of pattern to me.
“I know the princess,” I said, feeling like the map wasn’t going to lead us anywhere, “at least to some degree. I could see if she wants to meet, maybe see if she tries to recruit me.”
“That’d be a way to go. I’ve got a lead on a meeting that’s happening out in Thuries Landing later tonight.”
“You want me to attend?”
“I think you might stick out a bit, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m a master of disguise.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, not really. But I don’t think anyone here knows me.”
“If you show up, they’ll know you. If not as Duke of Coggeshall, then as the Stranger.”
“First of all, I’m not the Stranger. That guy would totally kick my ass. Second, um, see the first thing I said.”
“I know you are, and it’s fine — I’m not going to tell anyone, even though I doubt anyone would care. It’s more that your size means you’re not going to be able to do much in the way of sneaking and peeping anywhere you go.”
My food arrived, and we stopped talking while the waiters put everything down. And yes, I ordered enough food to require more than one person to carry it all.
Clyde’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t say anything.
“Valamir seemed to think we needed to, what, get rid of the cult with extreme prejudice,” I said. “You think that’s right?”
“Like I tried to say last night, I don’t think we know enough yet. I’m inclined to say yes, just because I’ve seen how willing they are to shed blood and spend lives, but does that mean that all their members deserve to die? I don’t know.”
“I just want us to be on the same page, man.”
“The current page is one where we do what needs doing.”
“How very diplomatic.”
“I do what I can. You try to talk to the princess. I’ll try to visit the meeting. We need to keep the pressure on Valamir to actually tell us about what’s underground. Otherwise–”
“We won’t know why the cult is doing whatever it is they are doing.”
“Right.”
“So this was one of those meetings where we just have, like, what? Tacts and not strategies?”
“I don’t know — I never really went to those meetings.”
